Blessings of a Curse
by Klayin
Summary: Hermione's life is changed forever with one bite. A man once thought lost returns to help her. He expected to find a broken witch, what he didn't expect to find was the one thing he had been searching for his entire lycanthric life.
1. Curiosity Killed the Cat

_Author's Note:_

_This is my very first attempt at a FanFic so please be kind. I will do my best to update often but I do have classes starting again soon. I work quite a bit as well. Some of the characters may be slightly OOC but only as far as I have perceived them to be while reading the original Harry Potter series. Also, some slight AU._

_**Caution**: This story contains coarse language, some violence and mature scenes filled with lemons._

_Italics will be used for thought and Quotations (") for dialogue._

_DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. JK Rowling owns everything, including the $1.6 million dollar home next to her $3.3 million dollar home. *sigh*_

_-K_

**Curiosity Killed the Cat**

_Shit._

Hermione's mind raced as she groped blindly about her.

_Shit. Shit!_

Her hands worked franticly over the crusted earth for something, anything to save her life.

_Not anything, the only thing._

Even with the full moon's light flooding through the night sky, she took painful note of the fact that the thick forest canopy provided very little to see the ground beneath her. Desperately crawling on all fours she latched on to anything that remotely resembled the intricate woven vines of wood that was her wand.

Her heart thumped loud in her chest. Every beat like the ticking of a clock serving as a constant reminder of how little time she had. It fluttered faster skipping a beat, when she felt something coarse and slender but it soon then returned to its ominous ticking countdown when she discovered in vain that it was just another stick. Snapping it angrily in two and tossing it aside, she slumped against a nearby tree.

She hadn't planned on being here, at night anyway. The thick Devon forest provided a quiet and peaceful place to read during the day, but by nightfall, it was not somewhere she or any other witch in her right mind wished to be; especially alone and especially during the full moon.

She had gone into the forest during the early evening with every intention of leaving before supper. She only needed to escape the noise and bustle of the Burrow for a few hours.

After they graduated, Harry, Ron and she had all taken up temporary residence in the Weasley household. They all pitched in to help to restore it after the final battle and after Bellatrix and Greyback burned it down. Molly, being the mother hen she was, insisted that they stay in the additional rooms that were constructed until they had all found other suitable living arrangements.

It had only been a few months since they left the doors of Hogwarts, so it seemed like the most logical decision. It was by all accounts a good place to continue healing after the losses of the war. Hermione figured that with the extra company, the Weasleys along with Harry and herself wouldn't feel the sting in their hearts quite as often when they glanced at the empty chairs around the table.

Today had been like most of the other summer days. Everyone in the house rose early with the exception of Ginny. With another year to go at Hogwarts, she needn't worry about the responsibility of a job just yet.

The others however, were up and out the door by 7:30 every morning. Ron pursued his career in Quidditch and practiced everyday with the Ballycastle Bats as the new Keeper. George had kept up with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in Fred's memory and despite the loss of his brother and best friend; he had not lost his penchant for scheming up new tricks and spells. He was in every sense of the phrase, doing quite well for himself.

Molly was without fail, always the first to rise in the morning. She could be found in the kitchen cooking up breakfast for a family of twenty let alone the seven occupants that resided within the home.

Harry had taken up a position as an Auror in the Ministry while Hermione, who in her third year had become fascinated by Professor Lupin's Lycanthropy, accepted the head position in the Department of Magical Creatures.

From the early morning to the early afternoon the house was quiet. As everyone trickled in the front door from their various daily tasks however, the volume of noise within the home grew and grew until she could swear that the walls of the house shook.

Desperate for some serenity to re-read the volumes of new werewolf law proposals, Hermione took to the nearby forest. As she engrossed herself in her readings she hardly noticed that the sun was getting low and the air around her had began cool. It wasn't until she couldn't make out the words in front of her anymore that she noted she should be heading back.

Gathering the volumes of pages scattered around her, she pulled out her wand and muttered a quick, "Reducio". Sticking her wand back in her pocket of her crème colored sweater, along with the now considerably smaller stack of laws, she dusted off her muggle jeans and headed back down the path toward the Burrow.

She was nearly out of the forest when she stepped into the intense glow of the moon. It washed over her completely, pooling over her honey brown curls, down her slim frame and all the way to the toes of her bare feet. Stopping at the edge of the forest, she turned to face the rather large, rather bright and beautiful full moon. She knew it was dangerous, but her nagging curiosity to discover something new and vital kept her from continuing on her path home.

Walking briskly back into the forest she fully reassured herself that there were no known dens in the forests near Devon and that it was highly unlikely a werewolf would be lurking nearby. As far as she could recall, there were none even registered within a hundred miles.

She approached the clearing in the middle of the forest, where she intended to cast a few simple spells and take some measurements of the moons position in the sky. For the last month she had been researching a stronger alterative to the Wolfsbane Potion. Having only just started off in her research, she had little of the valuable information that she needed. The opportunity to observe and calculate the full moon had been too great for her to ignore.

She was only a few steps from the clearing. Going over the mental list of things to do once she arrived she hadn't noticed the defining silence of the once very fervent crickets. What she did hear however, was the sudden eruption of a low and lengthy wail that had her tripping over her own two feet, sending her wand and the copy of the new laws flying out about her in every direction.

That loud, drawn and desperate sound, in addition to her own morbid curiosity, was how she ended up there now; slumped against the tree, defeated in the attempt to locate her only source of protection.

_I can only imagine the story in the Prophet tomorrow. "Hermione 'Know-it-all' Granger finally let curiosity kill the bushy haired cat. She will fondly be remembered for helping to defeat Lord Voldemort, only to be killed by some ...creature…"_

No. Hermione knew it wasn't just "some creature". In the vast expansion of her mind, with all her late and recent research, she knew precisely what "creature" was stalking her. The signs were too obvious to ignore. She just didn't want to admit it.

_The over sized prints, the trail of deer bits and blood that had been strewn across the clearing, the full moon and perhaps the most tell tale of them all, the panged, lonely and unmistakable howl of th-_

**CRACK!**

Hermione stiffened and stared straight at the ground ahead. A low guttural snarl erupted from the other side of the tree, followed by the quick sharp intake of hurried breath. Knowing that any sudden movement would mean her life, she did what she did best. She began to think. Fast and hurried thoughts filled her mind, searching for any way out.

_If I make it to the edge of the clearing I might- no. I can't out run a- well maybe if I slowly make my way around the tree and surprise it, then stun it- ugh but I need my- WAND!_

The realization hit her hard and at the precise moment she needed it to.

From the second she heard the monster behind her, her deep brown orbs had been fixated on the object in front of her. Partially hidden in the shadow of the forest, her wand lay a few feet beyond her reach.

She acted instantaneously without a further thought. She sprung from her shelter of the tree and lunged for her life.

Sensing her movement almost before she had even begun, the large black werewolf leapt snarling and hissing from behind the tree at her retreating form. Its glassy crimson eyes were focused and narrow, only to be mimicked the pointed and bloodied fags of its open scowling mouth.

Hermione landed gruffly on the ground in front of her, shooting her hand out to clutch the thin carved salvation in her hand. As she wretched her body around to face the beast she cried out in a shrill and shaking voice.

"STUPEF-ARGHHHH!"

The end of her spell, cut short from the white hot searing pain that erupted from the torn flesh of her hip. The pain enveloped her whole and the scene around her began to dim.

The wolf growled in apparent victory over its prey as it reared back for the kill. But before she slipped from the conscious world, she could just make out the sound of a panicked voice calling out her name and the muttering of a spell. A red light illuminated the world beyond her closed lids before she succumbed to the darkness that beckoned her.


	2. You Know What to Do

_Author's note:_

_Thank you so much to:_

_evil-vile-kitty  
>ariah23<br>smithback_

_for your encouragement to continue this story. I found myself excited to keep writing and squeezing out another chapter before I headed to bed tonight (well now morning lol)._

_I truly appreciated the comments._

_DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. JK Rowling owns everything and is taking that $1.6 million dollar home she purchased and demolishing it to make room for her garden. If I owned any of this, you could be damn sure I'd be doing the same thing._

**You Know What to Do**

Ginny paced impatiently just outside the house. Despite the early summer night chill, she left the door ajar, allowing the light from the kitchen to cast a warm golden glow on the grass below.

Stopping and standing on the tips of her toes, she squinted hard at the darkness beyond the small homey patch of light surrounding her. She imagined she heard laughter and hoped it was Hermione laughing along side the boys about how she took a wrong turn coming home to the Burrow. Playing out the scenario in her head, she anticipated Hermione ended up stuck in the mud or on the branch of a high tree due to an unfortunate run in with some wild Cornish pixies.

Sighing outwardly at the silence, she knew her mind was playing tricks on her. She was too optimistic sometimes.

"Ginevra Weasley come inside this_ instant_, and shut that door. It'll do no good if you catch a cold." Ginny heard her mother fuss from somewhere in the depths of house. She shook her head in silent defeat.

"How does she do that?" She thought aloud to herself as she reluctantly turned to step back inside the kitchen. Somehow no matter where Molly was, on the sixth floor buried in a pile of laundry or halfway across England, she knew exactly what her children were up to.

Shutting the door behind her a little too harshly, Ginny slumped down into the nearest chair and grumbled in annoyance.

"Dear, there is no sense in fussing about something you can't control. The boys will find Hermione and I am _sure_ she is alright. Now just go up to your room it's nearly three in the morn!" Crossing the kitchen to the sink, she unloaded a pile of dirty robes.

Although she put on a valiant façade, her actions were betraying her own reassurance. Molly was worried. She knew Hermione was tough. Her dealings in the war were nothing less than pure Gryffindor bravery. But she also knew that even though the war was over, danger still lurked in the wizarding world.

After Voldemort's demise, most of the Death Eaters had either fled the country or were put to trial. Some however, were still on the loose and until the last remaining one was captured, no one was ever truly safe.

Molly knew however, that it wasn't just the fleeting remnants of the dark side that lurked in the cover of nightfall. There were many magical and even non-magical dangers out there, especially in the forest.

Feeling helpless to do anything to aid the boys in their search for Hermione, she buried herself in a mountain of chores to try and calm her nerves. If she could put on a brave face and keep Ginny from distressing too much, she would at least be doing something. She knew she wasn't fooling anyone, but Molly Weasley was as stubborn as centaur guarding his land in the Forbidden Forest.

"Fine mum, but you know," Ginny called as she ascended the stairs to her room, "you're not fooling anyone."

Huffing in slight anger, Molly turned back to the dirty laundry in front of her and began scrubbing furiously.

**BAM!**

The door to the kitchen flew open abruptly with enough force to knock it clean off the hinges. After coming down from the multitude of feet in the air she had jumped at the sudden blast, Molly turned to hear the low and calculated voice of her husband.

"Molly. The Medi-Kit. Now."

Walking swiftly past his wife, Arthur moved quickly into the sitting room, carrying a very bloodied and unconscious Hermione in his arms.

Rushing in behind him, a pale and expressionless Harry escorted a visibly upset Ron. Bringing up the rear of the party was George, who carried a bundle of torn and muddied papers along with a slender wand complete with very delicate vine carvings.

Without missing a beat, Molly rushed over to the small cupboard above the stove and retrieved a worn and leathery looking case. Wasting no time she ran into the sitting room.

Hermione was laid out in her tattered and torn clothes on the large scruffy rug in the center of the room. Muttering various healing spells over the gaping wound on her hip, Arthur motioned for Molly to hurry over.

"She's lost a lot of blood."

"Dear Merlin Arthur, what happened to her?" Molly opened the kit and handed him the roll of gauze.

"She was attacked. The potion. Please." Arthur pointed to a purple vial in the kit as he tended to the injured witch in front of him.

Molly handed him the vial and he immediately poured it over her hip. Smoking and sputtering as it hit the open flesh, it cooled to a white vapor and began to close the wound.

Gathering a small vial of blood replenishing potion from the kit, Arthur raised Hermione's head and with George's help, coaxed the thick red liquid down her throat.

After effectively cleansing and closing her wound, Arthur brought her still unconscious form up to the third floor and into her room. As soon as he left, Molly dressed her in her night clothes. Laying her down gently on the bed and assuring herself that her breathing was steady, she made her way back to the sitting room where everyone, including Ginny who had heard the commotion, was talking in hushed and hurried voices.

Ron's voice rang out in an octave above the rest. "There has to be _something_!"

"Ron, you know there's no cure." Harry replied finding his voice.

"But how can you be so sure it was even a-"

"I stunned it myself." Arthur adamantly interrupted. "There is no mistaking it. Not with the full moon."

Hearing those fateful last words, Molly gingerly spoke up. "You surely can't mean…"

"Yes." He whispered softly. "Hermione was bitten by a werewolf."

After confirming what no one wanted to believe, everyone went silent. Harry paled even more (if it was even possible) and Ron looked as if he was going to vomit all over the floor in front of him. George ran his hands slowly through his fiery hair until they settled on a permanent position in front of his face and Ginny sobbed silently in the corner.

After seconds passed into minutes, Molly finally spoke up.

"Well now, all of you children up to bed. It's been an exhausting night and if you want to help Hermione in any way, shape or form she'll need you all well rested and attentive." Moving over to shoo them out of the sitting room, she called back over her shoulder to her husband.

"You know what to do."


	3. Expect the Unexpected

_Author's__ Note:_

_Thank you again to:_

_smithback  
>ariah23<em>

_for your continued encouragement._

_Ariah23: I agree poor Hermione, but she's a tough cookie ;) And it becomes clearer in this chapter what Molly meant. :)_

_I PINKY PROMISE next chapter will have Remus galore._

_DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. JK Rowling owns everything. She sells 250 million copies of her literature worldwide in 55 different languages. I sell cookies at a bake sale entirely in English. _

**Expect the Unexpected**

The house had finally settled into a peaceful state just as the first colors of dawn crept over the horizon. Staring at the ceiling, Arthur listened intently for the gradual onset of silence and when he could hear no more of the hushed voices above, he rose to depart.

Knowing full well that at any moment the children could (and decidedly would) wake and see which direction he was headed, he snatched up his flat hat and hastily retreated out the back door toward the rolling Devon hills.

He knew that his presence would be an unwelcome one, but he was more than certain once he explained the situation, this order member in particular would be unable to say no.

Turning back to see that the house was fully beyond the distance of his vision, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and disappeared with an audible pop.

Back at the Burrow, the remaining inhabitants began to stir. Slowly but surely, the baggy-eyed Weasleys and pajama clad Harry emerged from their short lived slumber. Watching the figurative living dead filter into the kitchen, Molly beckoned them all to the table where their usual breakfast for twenty, had grown into a feast fit for a small army.

Ginny frowned inwardly. She knew after observing her mother's actions the night before that Molly was still incredibly worried about not only Hermione's health, but the state of the rest of the children as well.

"Mum, I don't even have an appetite this morning." She complained, dropping into the seat next to Harry.

"Yeah, Mrs. Weasley, no offense, it's just with Hermione n' all…" Looking up apologetically, Harry frowned. George nodded in agreement.

Despite their protests Molly began filling everyone's plates. "Don't be ridiculous. Eat up. One sick child is bad enough." She shoveled a pile of eggs on to Harry's plate.

After looking at each other in defeat, the three slowly began picking at the food in front of them. As much as they didn't want to eat, they'd rather not be on the receiving end of Mrs. Weasley's incessant nagging until they did.

Smiling in triumph, Molly began up the stairs to Hermione's quarters with a small washcloth and vial. Opening the door, she found not only Hermione, who, by evidence of the steady rise and fall of her chest, was still deep in sleep, but Ron. Lying with his arms crossed on the bed in front of him, it was evident by the loud and almost defining snore that he too was in fact, asleep.

"Ronald Weasley!"

His head jerked up violently at the sudden intrusion from his slumber. Blinking a few times and adjusting to the light, he finally pulled into view the very cross and flushed face of his mother.

"I trust you _slept_ here?" she continued hotly as she placed the cloth and bottle on the table beside the bed.

"Erm…ah…yeah mum. I was worried. I didn't want her to wake up alone you know?" He paused as he looked down, scratching his head at the still form of his best friend. "But she hasn't woken up." He added despairingly.

Molly's face softened a bit. "She's had a trying night Ronald. I wouldn't expect her to wake so soon. Now, downstairs with you. I trust not even a little scratch on Hermione will have dampened _your_ appetite."

Ron glanced up guiltily at his mother. Giving Hermione a small kiss on her forehead, he lingered perhaps a bit longer than he should have before retreating out of the room.

_Such a shame_. Molly thought as she applied the cool cloth to the wound on Hermione's hip. She knew her son still had feelings for Hermione, but it was evident that the young witch simply didn't feel the same way. From what she observed, there were never any hard feelings between the two. In fact, it appeared that they had even become closer as friends after their short lived romance.

Shaking her head at her own wistful thoughts a series of soft moans broke her concentration.

"Hermione?"

She felt the young woman begin to shift slightly beneath her. First her small hands began to twitch, followed by movement in her feet. She watched as the young woman's actions progressed to violent, jerking motions and her cries jumped quickly into a crescendo.

Sensing the poor girl must be having a terrible nightmare of her ordeal, she shook her by the shoulders and called out. "Hermione! Hermione wake up!"

_The beast had just reared back for its final strike. She knew her body was too weak to continue the struggle. It was over, both in her mind and undoubtedly within the mind of the blood thirsty werewolf. She closed her eyes and waited for the end._

"_Hermione!"_

_She could hear the ghosts of the people she loved. The people they lost, calling for her from beyond the veil. Through the snarling and growling that filled her ears, she could almost make out who it was. Professor Dumbledore? Sirius?_

"_Hermione!"_

_Or was the one voice she secretly longed to hear. The one that made hear knees weak when she was only a girl. The one that pulled on her heart strings whenever it spoke her name. The one voice that could only belong to Rem-_

"_Hermione. Wake up!"_

_-Molly?_

"_Hermione!"_

_Molly! She wasn't dying! Molly! Molly!_

"Molly!" Hermione cried out as her eyes shot open wide.

"Oh Hermione! Dear! Thank goodness you're awake!" Without thinking she pulled Hermione in a crushing embrace.

"Oof, ouch Mrs. Weasley, please. My hip is on fire!" She cried out hoarsely as she struggled out of the bear hug.

"Of course honey! Oh I'm so sorry! I am just so relieved that you are alright." Releasing her death grip on Hermione, Molly accioed a glass and filled it with water. "Here, drink. It's water, you sound a bit horse."

Gratefully accepting the liquid, she took a succession of tiny sips to alleviate the unnatural burn in her throat. When she had successfully quenched her thirst she pulled herself up and propped onto her elbows.

"How did you find me?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "You can thank Arthur and the boys for that. Ginny was a bit put out about not being able to help in the search as you can imagine."

Hermione grinned knowingly and turned her attention to the mirror on the dresser across the way. Shifting a bit higher in the bed, she nearly gasped aloud when she saw her appearance.

Although she had only been unconscious for a few hours, she hardly recognized her own face in the glass in front of her. She was considerably dirtier, with splotches of top soil covering her face and even some crusted blood over her left brow. Her hair hung limp and loose past her shoulders and her eyes harbored some very dark circles.

"Merlin I look worse than Neville after Double Potions!" She exclaimed not taking her eyes away from the girl in the mirror.

Chuckling softly, Molly stood and offered an arm to help her up from the bed and to the washroom. Careful as to not re-aggravate the wound on her hip, she waited until Hermione felt well enough to take some tentative steps before releasing her grip.

"Well as long as you're up, why don't you take a long shower and get yourself 'de-Neville-fied'. I'll be down in the kitchen with the others. I am sure they will be ecstatic to hear that you're up and about again."

Hermione nodded in agreement. She hadn't even thought about how concerned everyone must have been when she didn't return home for supper. She felt a slight pang of guilt as she thought about them all, searching around the house wondering where she could be. She didn't mean to worry them, it wasn't her fault that she was bitten by a-

"Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione called tentatively as the red headed woman exited the washroom.

"Yes?" She answered back, popping her head back into the room.

"I was...I mean…in the forest…well...I…"

"I know dear" was all Molly solemnly replied with. "They all do."

_Great._ Hermione thought. _It's going to be a very eventful breakfast._

After she showered and cast a quick drying spell on her hair, Hermione slipped into her muggle sweats and loose white tee. She knew it wasn't the most attractive outfit in her armoire, but the wound on her hip was still rather tender and she didn't want anything rough or constricting to bother it.

Feeling the shooting pains of her injury with each step she made, it take considerably longer for her to make her way down each flight of stairs. Using this extra time to her advantage, Hermione braced herself for the onslaught of questions about her new condition.

When she reached the floor before turning the corner to the kitchen, she took a deep breath.

_They're your friends Hermione. No. They're your __**family.**__ They understand. You know what to expect._

After nodding her head curtly to assure herself she was completely ready for what lay ahead, she turned the corner only to find the exact opposite of what her personal pep talk had prepared her for. Stopping dead in her tracks, she locked her deep brown eyes with the icy blue ones looking up at her expectantly from the table.

"Pro-professor Lupin?"


End file.
